


Butterflies and Confessions

by mermaidsahoy



Series: Blue and Red Lights [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Continuation, F/M, Humor, Modern AU, crab legs are great okay?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 06:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1769926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermaidsahoy/pseuds/mermaidsahoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First official date!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterflies and Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> This is a nice long chapter! Enjoy!

It didn’t take them long to relocate to a new hotel, one that Sandor picked out himself. Sansa managed to get them a room within their budget and after they got the keys they dragged their bags upstairs, Sandor following them with sharp looks at every corner and window. The room was a bit bigger than their last one, and it even had a tiny kitchen area complete with a stove and a small Sansa was glad, because this meant she could buy some groceries and cook instead of having to order out all the time.

“Do you really think we will be okay here?” Sansa asked while Arya started messing with the TV. Sandor shrugged. “It should be fine for now. We left no trace for them to follow at the old place, and your disappearance means they will be searching every airport and bus station for you, rather than checking other hotels. But I would call that number you have, and soon.” She nodded, and set her bags down wearily.

“I should probably get back to work now,” he said, edging back towards the door. “I don’t want Bronn to ask questions. “Oh, right, of course,” Sansa responded. She glanced at Arya, who was momentarily distracted by a movie, then followed Sandor out into the hallway, pulling the door to. “Thank you,” she said, hugging her arms, “for your help.” Sandor put his hands in his pockets and stepped a little closer; the movement made her aware once more of how tall he was. “No problem.” They stared at each other, the air growing thick with hesitation on both sides. Sansa was about to say good night when he opened his mouth. “Would you like to go out again?”

A flurry of butterflies whirled in her chest like a tornado, beating their wings against her ribcage. Sansa swallowed, formulating an answer. “No Chinese food, this time,” he continued. She smiled and her cheeks flooded with warmth when he grinned too. “I’d like to, but…won’t it be a little dangerous to go out anywhere?” She did not want to be shot at again. Sandor didn’t seem fazed though. “I think it’ll be fine. I doubt they will make another public appearance so soon. Not even the paid police department will overlook such instances for long. Besides,” here he gave a her wicked grin and wink, “I’ll be with you the whole time. And I’ll keep you safe.”

* * *

 

Sandor picked her up two nights later. Sansa had given herself plenty of time to get ready because she had no idea where they were going or what they were doing, but it still took her a long time to pick out what to wear. She didn’t have that many clothes with her since they had had to escape the Lannisters quickly, and most of their money was to be used for food and lodging. She decided on a white dress with cap sleeves: elegant enough to fit in with a more expensive atmosphere but also casual enough to blend in with a more toned-down location. She applied some light makeup and a single spritz of some Chanel No. 5. Her hair she left down in soft waves.

Arya was sprawled out on the bed reading some comic books, but she looked up when Sansa finally emerged from the bathroom. “You look…nice,” she commented. Sansa was surprised at that, but things had been a bit better between them over the last couple of days. It finally seemed to hit Arya that she could have lost her sister to the shooting, and Sansa could tell her sister was trying to behave. “Thank you, Arya."

Sansa was a bit nervous. She had never been out with anyone besides Joffrey, so she wasn’t sure what Sandor was expecting, or what his idea of a formal date was. At least with Joffrey, she had known he would be taking her to up-scale restaurants and clubs, so she was prepared for that sort of experience. With Sandor though…Sandor was a mystery.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she jumped. Arya rolled her eyes at her reaction. “Wow, I wonder who that could be,” she mocked. Sansa went to the door and peeked through the eye-hole, then opened it. Sandor stood in the hallway, and instead of wearing grubby jeans and an old t-shirt, he was wearing dark pants and a plain button down. His hair was combed, but still parted over to cover his scars. He looked nice. “Hi,” Sansa greeted, smiling and hoping her nervousness wasn’t obvious. “Hey,” he responded, taking in an appreciative look at her appearance. “You look beautiful.” She blushed further and fiddled with the door handle. “Thank you.” “Ughhh barffff!” Arya groaned from the bed. “Just go already!” Sandor chuckled and motioned towards the stairs. “Ready?” Sansa grabbed her purse and walked out, not before giving Arya specific instructions not to go out unless it was an emergency, to not burn the place down, and to eat the leftovers in the fridge.

They left the hotel and Sandor led her to an all-black Mustang parked on the curb…the same car he had been pulled over in. It looked freshly washed and not nearly as beat-up as she remembered. He opened the door for her and she slid in, taking an opportunity to study the interior while he walked around to the driver’s side. The car was black inside as well, and clean. A pine tree air freshener swung gently from the mirror. A few cassette tapes were stashed in a compartment under the radio. Sansa wondered if he would mind if she looked at them.

Sandor slid in next to her and turned the keys in the ignition, and the motor roared to life. “So where are we going?” Sansa asked as they pulled away from the curb and onto the road. He gave her a sly look out of the corner of his eye. “You’re going to have to wait and see, sweetheart,” he rasped. “You’re really not going to tell me?” she probed. “Nope,” he answered, turning to give her a wink when he stopped at a red light.

They drove mostly in silence, but it was comfortable. Sansa didn’t feel pressured to formulate conversation, and it was actually kind of nice, for once. She loved to chat, and had been raised to engage in polite conversation to fill empty air, but as Sandor seemed comfortable with not talking either, she decided to simply lean back and enjoy the drive.

He pulled up to a waterfront restaurant, overlooking the bay. The wooden building was very open, spacious, and extremely nautical yet classy in its overall décor. A boardwalk stretched around the side/ Sansa loved it, and was satisfied that she had picked out the right kind of dress. Some boats were docked nearby, and the faint sound of seagulls added to the ambiance.

Sandor opened her door and she stepped out, gazing around her curiously. “It’s seafood, if that’s ok,” he said. “That’s perfect,” she answered, smiling at him, and felt warm when he placed a hand on her back to guide her to the front of the restaurant. They were met by host who confirmed Sandor’s reservation and brought them to nice quiet corner of the restaurant, which was inhabited by some other patrons though not enough to be noisy and crowded. They were handed menus, informed of the daily special, and left alone.

“This is really nice,” Sansa said, admiring the easy atmosphere and the low lighting. “It’s calm, out of the way, and unsuspecting,” Sandor replied. “I thought it would be a good place to go.” Sansa nodded, grateful of the steps he was taking regarding her safety. “So, what’s good here?” Sandor glanced at the menu and smirked. “The crab legs are pretty damn good.” “Really? I’ve never had them,” Sansa said reading the description. Sandor looked surprised. “Never? Well that needs to change. You don’t know what you’re missing.” She giggled and placed the menu aside. “I think I’ve made my decision then.” He leaned towards her, the soft light casting shadows over his face, and though Sansa had been afraid of them earlier, his scars didn’t bother her anymore. “You sure? They can be messy.” His eyes trailed over her dress before climbing back to her face.

Sansa leaned forward too, raising her chin. “Challenge accepted. Besides, if they do get messy, I’m sure you can help me with that.” Sansa had no idea where such a flirtation came from, and she quickly hoped that it was vague enough that he didn’t realize any sort of implication it held, but the way his eyes darkened and he bit his bottom lip told her he knew _exactly_ what she had said. Luckily she was saved by the waiter returning to take their orders.

While waiting for their food, Sandor asked her a little more about her family. Sansa enthusiastically filled him in on life back at Winterfell, describing the mountains, the rivers, her brothers’ (and Arya’s) antics, and how they all owned large wolf-dogs. “I miss Lady a lot,” Sansa admitted, stirring her sweet iced tea with the straw. “She’s my best friend, besides Jeyne.” Sandor nodded in agreement. “Dogs are great. Loyal.” There was something in his expression that made Sansa wonder if there was double meaning behind his words. “We had dogs when I was growing up, and as a teenager I volunteered at shelter,” he continued, sipping his beer. Sansa brightened at the mention of some of his past. “How fun! What did you do after that?”

“Enlisted, stayed in the army for a long time, then started working for the Lannisters. And now I’m here.” Sansa sensed that there was a great deal left out, but she didn’t want to push. He seemed like a very private man, and they had only met a few days ago. Sandor glanced out the windows next to them for a moment, then cocked his head back at her. “Did you ever call your mom?” “I did…but there was no answer,” Sansa admitted with a sigh. “I’m trying not to worry about it. Maybe they were out or something. I was planning on trying again later tonight.” Sandor’s mouth twitched, but he said nothing else on the subject.

The waiter brought them two plates, followed by a steaming platter of giant snow crab legs. The smell wafting from them was delicious, and Sansa felt her stomach rumble. They were given small bowls of dipping butter, metal picks, and some things that looked like nutcrackers. Sansa studied the device and the legs with uncertainty before meeting Sandor’s amused face. “Can show me what to do?” she asked timidly. He chuckled and scooted his chair over closer to her, bringing his own plate and utensils with him. “Here, like this.” He picked up one of the legs and cracked it off from the white core, then cracked it again at the joints, revealing white meat. He dipped it in the butter then brought it to his mouth to suck the contents out. Sansa watched carefully as he finished and tossed the empty shell onto the plate. “Your turn, sweetheart.”

Gingerly, she picked up a smaller leg and squeezed it between the nutcracker. It snapped and some pieces flew off. “Oh! You were right this is messy,” she giggled, and examined the broken shell for meat. When she found a good sized piece she dunked it in the butter like Sandor had done and brought it to her mouth. “Wow! This is delicious!” she exclaimed, pleased. Sandor smirked and handed her another leg. “That’s the way. You’re a natural already.” They shared the legs in enjoyment, their munching occasionally interrupted by Sansa’s squeals when a leg snapped and pieces flew everywhere. Sometimes there was a leg she couldn’t break and Sandor would do it for her. The waiter also brought them a basket of seasoned biscuits, which Sandor dug into with ferocity.

When every last piece of crab meat and biscuit was ingested and the waiter cleared their table, Sansa excused herself to the bathroom so she could clean up a bit. She washed her hands and arms thoroughly, then took advantage of an empty stall since she didn’t know where they were headed next and she didn’t want things to be interrupted by nature’s call. When she got back to the table she was surprised to see Sandor paying for the check. “I’ve got another spot in mind for dessert, if you’re interested,” he told her. “Sure!” she responded happily, glad that their evening was going to continue. He led her out of the restaurant, but instead of taking her to the car he steered her towards the road. “It’s just a short walk from here,” he explained. Sansa was glad she had decided to wear flats and not heels, as the road was gravely.

Twilight had descended on the town, and the weather was pleasantly warm without being too humid. “So,” Sansa began, feeling a little playful, “Did you tell Bronn about our date?” Sandor chuckled, his raspy voice making her shiver. “Yea, I told him. He didn’t believe me.” “Really? Why not?” Sansa asked curiously. “I mean, you took me to lunch the other day.” Sandor shrugged. “He thought I might have scared you off. He really was just hoping he could ask you out.” He shot her smirk, and she reddened. “Oh…well, you didn’t scare me off, did you?” Sansa responded, lacing her hands behind her back as she looked up at him. She liked how tall he was. “Apparently not,” Sandor rasped, lowering his voice a little as he met her gaze. Sansa again felt the swarming flutter in her stomach, and a nervous but delighted tingle ran up her arms. She hadn’t felt this way in a long time, since she met Joffrey, and even then it had been different.

They reached a small snack shack that was decorated in tropical colors and palm leaves. “I know it looks sketchy,” Sandor explained, “but they have the best ice cream in California.” Sansa laughed hard at this, and placed her hand on his arm. “I trust you,” she said with a smile, and his own grin faded a little as he contemplated her closely. “Do you?” he asked, more soberly. She kept her hand on his arm. “Yes,” she answered honestly. That seemed to satisfy him, for he took her hand and led her to the shack. Sansa ordered a pineapple flavored float, and Sandor ordered a spiked root beer float. He took her to a bench that overlooked the rocky shore of the coast not far from the stand, and they sat sipping their desserts and watching the faint shapes of boats sailing far away.

“Thank you,” Sansa said suddenly, turning to him. “Sandor…this has been the nicest date I’ve ever been on. Truly.” The scarred man beside her had rested his elbows on the back of the bench, one hand holding his drink, and now his free hand came up to touch her hair. “That’s hard to imagine,” he rasped. “I’m sure Joffrey took you to nicer places.” Sansa frowned and stared at her own drink. “It doesn’t matter where he took me…I enjoy your company more than I ever did his. Even before I found out that he is a psychopath.” The burnt corner of his mouth twitched at her words, and he brushed his fingers through a lock of her hair before curling it behind her ear. “Might be I have issues too, girl,” he rasped quietly, never taking his eyes off her.

“So do I,” Sansa whispered, the warmth of his fingers clashing with the storm brewing inside of her chest, tightening. “He…he killed my father. And he made me watch,” she confessed, gripping her cup as her hands began to shake. “I had to stand there and watch as he put a bullet through my father’s head. When I close my eyes at night, I still see the blood…” she choked and bit her lip. Sandor said nothing, but his hand continued to pet her hair. Sansa took a shaky breath and looked at him. “You don’t see something like that and _not_ have issues after,” she finished. “No, you don’t,” he agreed. His eyes had darkened to match the color of the water gently lapping below them, and he looked angry, but Sansa knew it wasn’t directed at her. She felt suddenly felt much better and even safe.

Carefully, as if he didn’t want to startle her, Sandor set his cup on the ground, then took her own and set it aside. Sansa watched him as the fury on his face settled into something intense yet calm, and he leaned towards her, running a hand along her jaw while the other came up to tangle in her hair again. Sansa felt her breath catch in her throat, and then his lips, soft, warm, and a little chapped, pressed onto her mouth. It was short, hesitant, and he pulled back a bit to gauge her reaction. Sansa felt herself leaning forward, wanting more, and he obliged, kissing her more firmly this time.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed there, moving their lips together in a melting rhythm that threatened to turn her insides out and make her heart burst from her chest, but at one point Sandor drew back to enough to say, “Good thing I got pulled over that day.” Sansa giggled as he kissed her again, then she answered, “We really have Arya to thank. If she hadn’t been arrested, I would have never ended up in that squad car.” Sandor chuckled and nuzzled at her temple with his nose and mouth, pulling her closer. “True.” His deep rough voice made her gulp, and she leaned into his arms, inhaling his musky scent.

Suddenly she wondered what time it was, and asked him. “I should probably get back to the hotel,” she said regretfully. “I don’t want to leave Arya for too long by herself.” Sandor nodded, though she could see he was reluctant to leave as well. They stood up and threw their cups away, then walked back to the car, Sandor slipping an arm around her waist. Sansa hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. Maybe things were going to start looking up for them.

Sandor drove her back to the hotel and walked her up the stairs to the room, and just as Sansa put the keys in the lock the door swung open and Arya stood before them. Her face was streaked with tears and her eyes had a wild, frightened look in them. “Arya! What’s wrong?”

Her sister’s voice shook as she told them. Catelyn had called a few minutes ago, crying hysterically, to tell them that Robb was dead.


End file.
